Jensen
“Jensen,” my dad greeted me.
I immediately looked up at the source of the voice and saw Dad standing right in front of me. My mouth, which had been chewing food happily, paused, and I swallowed the food I hadn’t chewed properly, even though it felt a little painful as it passed through my throat.
“Dad?” My eyes widened, and I put the burger I was holding on the garden table.
Dad suddenly sat down next to me and hugged me. “Dad misses you.”
Miss me? After Mom separated from him, he started missing me. Didn’t he miss me when we still lived together? It had been so long that I couldn’t even remember the last time he came into my room to say good night or good morning. Even on weekends, he never had time for me, even though when I was little, he often took me fishing, and we would
